And the World Fell to its Knees
by whynotsocks000
Summary: Supernatural AU. This is post Season 8 after the finale 8x23 Sacrifice . And the pale horseman (who is actually very nicely tanned, thank you very much) leads the Boyking (MAN king) to the throne. And as they vow to forever be at each other's side, their enemies die screaming and the world falls to its knees. Boyking! Sam winchester. Rated T for mild violence and stuff.
1. Chapter 1

The solution to all of the problems came surprisingly easily, not to say it was an easy decision for anyone involved because this involves Winchesters and nothing can be _completely_ easy when it involves Winchesters. BUT the solution arrived surprisingly easily.

The idea was Dean's. Summon Death. The Angels were falling, Hell's king was officially barking mad and crying for love, Hell's Gate were still wiiiiide open, Cas was human, Sam was (for all intents and purposes despite the fact that Dean refused to accept it and Sam never talked about it) dying, Kevin was exhausted, Dean was exhausted, and even more exhausted were all other options the boys may have had.

So Dean called Death.

Turns out, Death was pretty exhausted too.

Hey, did anyone know that Horsemen could _retire_?

Well, they can. Death did. HOWEVER, there is _one_ condition to retirement (actual retirement, not having your ring forcefully ripped off your finger *cough* WarFaminePestilence *cough* and turning into a vegetable, an actual retirement with a vacation house and benefits and the whole nine yards). The condition being that their ring, and all the power that comes with it, has to be left to an heir; one worthy of the title of Horseman.

Congrats, Dean, you worthy son of a gun.

Although, granted, Dean's really the only living being Death's talked to in many, many centuries so….

His perky nipples helped.

In any case, Death handed Dean his ring, his army of Reapers, and his ability to teleport freaking anywhere at the blink of an eye (which Dean _thoroughly_ enjoyed much to the chagrin of his brother).

And Dean, however hesitant he was to accept this, ended up taking the ring. Because the world was ending. Because his brother was dying. Because his best friend was miserable and powerless. Because the prophet he was supposed to protect seemed to be in constant danger. Because his _brother was dying_. Because, really, what other choice did he have?

So the righteous man took the ring.

As Death, Dean was able to kill Metatron easily enough. A few celestial fists flying and one particularly nasty hurricane, but Dean did it. Even got Cas his grace back and everything.

With Metatron gone, shoving the angels back into heaven was a piece of cake. However, it did leave heaven back on square one.

No God. No order. No clue. Like a chicken with its head cut off.

So Cas stayed. E.T. _finally_ went home.

Of course, with promises to check in at least every month, keep the boys in the loop, watch out for Bobby, and call with ANY complications.

Kevin was allowed to go home. Changed and twisted beyond belief, but thrilled all the same and every bit as smart and Harvard-ready as before.

But despite all the issues Dean was able to solve with his newfound title, there was no cure for Sam. Apparently, when God wants a sacrifice, he is highly thorough.

So then, if you can't beat the immortal beings, join them. And luckily for Sam, he had a blood claim (literally) to the throne of hell. And seeing as Hell's current king is, to say the least, out of commission, the throne was Sam's for the taking. Sure, some hopeful demons had tried their hand at ruling while they could, but once Sam walked in, it was all "_Yes, Mr. Winchester," _and, "_No, Mr. Winchester,"_ and, "_Would you like some fries with that, Mr. Winchester?_"

After all, who would fight with the boy whose big brother was Death?

And so the Pale horseman led the Boyking to his throne and set on his head, a crown of thorns. And as they vow to forever be at the other's side, their enemies, everywhere, die screaming, and the world falls to its knees.

And this? This is where it gets really good.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I don't own Supernatural. I wish I did, but I don't. Also, if you likey check out my account in AO3 as well. I post stuff there first. I'm cakesandpuppies on AO3.

It is AU. Please comment and tell me what you think. I have some ideas BUT nothing is set in stone. Thanks :)

-rujferugr-fwergwrg-grrgrthyjry-

Dean Winchester, newly appointed Death, stands in front of what was left of his fellow horsemen. As he watches the drool dribble down their chins and slide into their shirts, the pale horseman has but one thought.

_"God, this is sooooo gross."_

He'd usually have Sam with him. His brother, Dean figures, was always better at this sort of thing. Dean knows he's handsome and he know he's fit, so he typically sticks to scaring and charming as his methods of negotiation. Wrinkled old men, he always left to his brother and the critically acclaimed puppy-dog eyes, that somehow, despite their fucked-up lives and the whole king of Hell fiasco, Sam has not lost.

Just the other week, he managed to Dean's permission to prolong the life of Don. Y'know, Amelia's husband? Damn that kid and his soft heart and soulful, teary eyes.

Dean held back at first, he'd learned firsthand what messing with life spans could do when Death first gave him the ring. Back when Sam had no soul and Dean was still human. Those were good times. But when Sam promised to use his newfound power to do it, therefore making it a (sort of) demon deal and nullifying most of the more dire consequences (neither of them know why that is, and with their lives, they just don't question it), Dean felt his resolve shake. And when Sam pulled the eyes, Dean had known that it was all over.

Dean smiles at the memory. It's comforting to know that some things never change.

Dean's still a big brother and Sam's still a pain in the freaking ass.

But that pain in the ass can't be here to help Dean. Not today at least.

_"Figures, out of all the days for Sammy to be off destroying a demon rebellion, it __**had**__ to be today. Guess our luck's one of those things that never changes either._"

Dean had slid into the role of Death with no opposition. What, with the rest of the horsemen playing vegetable, the (had been) kind of Hell a blubbering mess, and God gone-fishing, no one was left that **could** oppose Death's choice in heirs.

Sammy's claim to the throne was met with a little less enthusiasm. During the first week, most of the demons were compliant and scared out of their wits, but slowly but surely they grew restless and pissy, thinking they could take Sammy down.

Sam made pretty quick work of those sons of bitches (after negotiations failed of course. Damn that kid). But nothing is ever **that** easy when it comes to their family. A few other demons had followed the example of the rebels and broke off on their own.

Sam's been systematically stomping those bitches out, but it's taking time. More time than either brother had originally thought it would.

You'd think that after what Sam did to the first batch (no one ever say that Sam Winchester didn't know how to carve), those morons would learn. Oh well, no one ever accused demons of being bright. Now Dean knows why.

So Dean's here, all alone, with three drooling, shaking old men.

"_Perfect_."

"So," Dean mutters, hoping that they can still hear, "What- uh- what's the word, guys?"

Silence fills the…erm…actually, Dean's not too sure where they are.

He just went with Tessa when she appeared this morning, saying it was 'of dire importance' and that Dean had to go with her at once.

"_God, I hate being new to this gig. No one freaking tells me anything_."

"Ok," Dean says, feeling the odd need to fill the silence, "Awkward…"

Still silence.

"So, do you want anything? I- uh- I know you're hungry, Famine. You know 'cause you're- uh- Famine…."

Nope. Still nothing.

"Pie! Anyone want some…pie? I love me some pie."

Dean can almost hear the crickets chirp.

"You guys hear about the one where the lawyer, the doctor, and the businessman all walk into a bar? They- OH COME ON! Gimme something here! You can't just drag my ass to-to _here_ and not talk to me!"

Nope.

"I got better things to do."

Uh-uh.

"Rebellions to stop."

Nada

"Looooots of chicks to bang."

Still the silence continues. Dean stares at them and they…drool.

And Dean's had enough. It's been a long week. So he resorts to screaming.

"**_I am Death. I am your leader and the strongest out of all of you. I shall not stand to be ignored. Speak when you are spoken to or I shall render you unable to speak ever again. I demand an answer! What is the meaning of these summons?!"_**

Woah.

Dean reels back in shock. That wasn't what he had wanted to say. He's not really sure what exactly he actually had wanted to say, but it sure as hell wasn't that.

_"What the hell?_" Dean thinks, "_Was that even English? I'm pretty sure I never learned that._"

Dean is twice as shocked when Famine actually responds. It's feeble and shaky, so shaky that Dean can barely make out the words, but he does get the basic gist. It's in the same language that Dean just spoke. Some ancient language of the horsemen. It's odd though, because Dean understands perfectly. He hears the separate language and has no freaking clue what the hell the words mean, but he just _knows_ what they're saying. When the hell did his life get so weird? Dean remembers when all he had to worry about was evil spirits and vampires; none of this weird stuff.

However, despite understanding what Famine's said, he doesn't _understand_ what Famine's said at all. None of it makes any sense. Something about duties and responsibilities and…

"What?! You're _dying?_ Can you lot _die?_ I thought you just…I don't know! But you can't DIE!"

Dean swore afterward that he saw Pestilence roll his eyes and snort. Damn old thing. Practically in a coma and still somehow finds the energy to be a lil'shit. Dean never liked that one.

And suddenly, War is up and touching Dean's face. A quick flash is all the warning Dean's mind gets before he's filled with more information and visions than he knows what to do with.

Oh. OH. _Oh. __**Oh**_...

Well, shit.

While that's all happening, the other half of the Winchester dream team finds himself somewhere in Nevada, a couple of miles outside of Las Vegas. Which is to say that he's _in the middle of freaking nowhere_. A desert. He's standing in a desert and feeling very, extremely stupid. And pissed.

Someone was going to die.

Great. Just perfect. Out of all the times for his brother to disappear…

But Dean had some top secret meeting to go to. Exclusive council. Riders of the Apocalypse only.

Sam was doing well (at first at least) in locating and destroying the rebellion. He'd narrowed down the leader to Abbadon. Not too hard seeing as Sam had put her into a prison when he took the throne, and now the cell is freaking _empty_. Not rocket surgery.

But she had shielded herself to Sam's magic and Dean's reapers and somehow escaped Hell; so Sam had called Cas, and the angel hadn't disappointed. He'd managed to pinpoint her location in Nevada, and had promised to meet Sam there.

That was four hours ago. Sam's been standing here for _four freaking hours_. Sam considers himself to be a patient man, but four hours is pushing it. Four hours in the middle of a freaking desert with nothing to show for it is hanging it, pushing it down a cliff, and hanging it again.

Because that's what Sam has right now. Nothing. No Cas, no demons, and no Abbadon.

"Sir," one of his demons pipes up, "I –uh- I don't think he's coming. Or Abbadon…"

"Yeah? You think so?"

"Um…so what should we do?"

God, he wishes he could just blow this idiot up. But that would be mean. And uncalled for. Still, he's starting to understand why Crowley killed so many of his followers…

"What do _you_ think we should do now?"

"Um…..find them? Sir?"

Sam pinches the bridge of his nose and breaths in deeply. He almost regrets killing Ruby and Azazel. At least they had some brains on them. Then again, seeing as Abbadon has some too and she's- well- rebelling, maybe it's a good thing all the smart ones are dead.

_"Deeeeeeep breaths, Sam. Deep breaths. You can do this."_

"Yeah. Yes. Finding them would BE VERY NICE! SO WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE?!"

And the demon jumps about a mile into the air. Sam hears frantic apologies and a lot of 'sirs' being thrown around before they all disappear. Off to do his bidding. Leaving him all alone.

God, Sam is never going to get used to that. That bossing people around thing. It's…weird. He's spent his whole life _being_ bossed around and overshadowed. First by his father, then by his larger than life older brother, although Dean probably never realized it.

Dean.

God, Sam wishes Dean could've come. He'd know what to do.

"_That's right, Dean would know what to do. I mean, Cas' disappeared on him before. So what would Dean do?"_

Sam figures he should do what Dean would do. After all, Dean must be an expert at dealing with people disappearing on him by this point. Sam winces at the thought. One of these Days he's going to apologize to his brother about that. Right now though? He's got other problems and Dean's god knows where.

Sam thinks for a bit then reaches his answer. Dean would look for the stupid angel himself. No need for dumbass demons. And that's exactly what Sam is going to do. So Heaven it is.

Now, normally, an embassy of hell would have a hell of a time entering Heaven, but seeing as Sam's-

Already been to Heaven.

Originally a human.

Absorbed all of Hell and it's powers, including the two archangels in the Cage (it's complicated, don't ask).

Entering a Heaven that's a little preoccupied these days with establishing an order, finding God, and –hey- civil wars and all that.

A Winchester, so, by definition, not normal.

Sam finds himself able to pass through the Gates of Heaven pretty easily. He'll have to warn Cas about that.

Once there, Sam makes his way to Cas' office. No angels get in his way, none are dumb enough. Everyone knows of what's happened following the events of Metatron's evil plot of doom and everyone knows of the company Cas keeps. Sa Sam is allowed safe passage.

Well, allowed is a misnomer. Most angels recognize him, and the ones who don't aren't stupid enough to stand in his way.

Sam marches on. Never breaking his stride.

Until he gets to Cas' office. Then, he freezes completely.

Crap. CRAP. _Crap_. **_Crap._**

Well, shit.

"Dude, I got to talk to you."

Says both brothers at the same time.

"I gotta find three new horsemen before the old ones kick the bucket or else the world's gonna fall into chaos."

"Abbadon's taken Cas. She trashed up his office and I can't find him anywhere. Bobby's not in his little corner either."

Both finish at the same time, equally as breathless. Then, the words start to register.

Oh.

Crap.

Well, shit.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam barges into his throne room, barking orders and breathing fire. He heads straight to the back, where the library is. He's got to find something. Some spell that can help them find Cas. Or Bobby. Whichever one comes first, really. Dean's off in Heaven doing god knows what, trying just as desperately to find the angel, that somehow wormed his way into their hearts, and their surrogate father. Dean's reapers are scouring- well- everywhere.

Dean's exact order was, "Look everywhere. I want every goddamn corner searched. No one rests until we find them. Go!"

Despite what is said, Dean and Sam Winchester do not abandon their friends; and they certainly do not allow others to kidnap them. Not without paying a price. Sam is looking forward to flaying the skin off of Abaddon's body. That is, if Dean doesn't get there first.

And then, he'd patted Sam on the shoulder and told him to get some rest; told Sam not to worry and that he'd find them. Then he disappeared, leaving Sam just standing there.

"Screw that. As if I could sleep with all this going on. Who the hell does he think he's talking to?"

So Sam continues to tear up book after book, looking for something- anything- that may help them.

Dammit, Sam actually let himself believe that now that he and his brother had joined the ranks of the almighty, immortals that their life would get any easier. He must have forgotten that good old Winchester luck.

Sam curses under his breath. How could things have gone so bad so quickly? Aside from this Abbadon thing, Deans got to find new horsemen. Fast too, if the state of the horsemen Dean described seeing is anything to go by.

Of course, the ramifications if he can't are nothing short of disastrous. Same can be said if Sam doesn't hurry up and get this Abbadon situation under wraps.

Sam can't help but feel a little guilty. Hell and all its demons are now his responsibility whether or not he asked for it. That means that all demons, Abbadon included, are supposed to be under his command. And the rebellions? That's on him too. So the fact that Cas and Bobby are now kidnapped by a demon leading a rebellion, weighs heavy on his conscience. Somewhere, deep down, Sam knows he could have stopped this. He knows he could have prevented it. Should have prevented it. Should have seen this coming. Should have kept a tighter watch on Abbadon. Now his friends are gone, and that's on him.

But wallowing in self-pity and disgust, as tempting as it sounds, has never solved any issues before and it won't start now. So Sam does the other thing that he does best, research.

Suddenly, the doors to his library open.

That's odd though. This is Sam's personal library. A place that he built all for himself. A place that the demons know better than to enter, and especially when he's in this kind of mood.

Sam turns around, a snarl set on his face, prepared to smite whoever just smashed his concentration (although, to be fair, he wasn't getting very far) and had dared enter his private library, probable cause and fair motives be damned. Someone is going to die.

But it's Dean. And he (obviously) won't be smiting Dean.

Sam's not even sure he can anymore, even if he wanted to. He'll never find out though. What reason would he ever have to smite his brother? Well, other than Dean's snoring, grossness, awful attitude, and over all ability to piss Sam off that is. Other than that….

No. Nope. Not the biggest issue at hand here.

Dean rolls his eyes when he sees his little brother bent over piles and piles of ten-ton books that makes Dean's head hurt just to look at. He marches right up to said brother and promptly snatches the papers out of his hand. A soft whine of protest rises from the other man's throat, but Dean silences it with a sharp look.

"I thought I told you to get some rest, dude."

Sam's scoff and his famous bitchface tells Dean exactly what his brother thinks of that idea. Dean knew his brother would take this hard. That he'd blame himself. Hell, Dean's blaming himself, and Sam's always taking things more personally than he should. Dean also knew, even as he gave Sam the order to take a break, that Sam would just ignore it. So Dean hadn't wasted any time looking in Sam's bedroom when he entered his brother newfound, lavish palace. The elder Winchester had headed straight to the library. Dean's determined to make Sam see sense. This is not his fault.

"And what would you do, Dean?" Sam asks, "You'd take it easy? While Cas and Bobby are missing? Abbadon's free and you've got to find new horsemen and we got to find our friends, Dean. We can't afford to lay down and take a freaking nap here!"

Sam reaches yet again for the book, but Dean holds it just out of reach.

"I get it, bro. Trust me, I do, but we also don't have the time for you to pass out on the ground in the middle of this, Sam. You're right, this is important, but I'm not gonna have you driving yourself into the floor either."

"Dean…"

"It's not your fault, Sammy."

And Sam slumps back immediately at those words and closes himself off. It is his fault, at least partially, but arguing with Dean will just exhaust them both. He wants to tell Dean that he doesn't understand and that Sam has to find them and that it is his fault and that he should've seen it coming and that he should have assigned better guards for a demon like Abbadon.

But, "It's not yours either," is all that Sam manages.

Because Sam knows his brother and he can guess what Dean's thinking. That he should've been there. That he should never have left Sam alone. That he's Death now and 'with great power, comes great responsibility' and Cas is his friend and Bobby is his father and he should have kept a better eye on them. And Sam has to remind Dean. Remind him that is isn't his fault. That Dean's been fulfilling his duties perfectly, unlike his pathetic little brother who let the one demon that could ever actually be a danger, escape out into the world. That it's not Dean's fault even though he blames himself.

And if the self-deprecating smile is anything to go by, Sam's got his brother pegged.

Dean, ever the jokester, just rolls his eyes though and says, "Don't I know it, bitch. You'd think an almighty angel of the lord would be able to handle one little demon."

And Sam winces. Looks like Dean hasn't heard and in the heat of the moment (God, he hates that saying) Sam must've forgotten to tell him.

"Erm, Dean. It's ah, not really one little demon."

"What?"

"Well, you see, Abbadon took a few with her. Not much and no one too strong! Just…enough."

Enough to get into Heaven and take down an angel goes unsaid, but it hangs in the air like an oppressive poison. And Sam hangs his head just a bit. He knew he should've told Dean when he originally found out that a whole freaking group of demons got loose and went to Earth, but he had wanted to handle it; wanted so desperately to prove that Dean no longer had to hover like he has been for the past month, ever since Sam took the throne. And then it just slipped his mind afterwards. It's no where near good enough, but it's all he's got. But Sam's not about to offer that excuse to his brother. He's not suicidal.

"And you didn't tell me this earlier?!" Dean roars so suddenly that Sam literally jumps up.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I just…" Sam starts apologizing, as soon as his ass found the chair again.

"What? You forgot? Sammy, I got people out there looking for one demon. No one is prepared to take on a group! What if they get caught? What if they get hurt? Huh?! I can't fucking believe you!"

Sam opens his mouth, but Dean has no intention of stopping to hear him out and cuts Sam off before he can get another word out.

"And when were you planning on telling me this? Abbadon escape three freaking days ago! I should have been the first to know she took a fucking group with her. Jesus, Christ Sam a little heads-up would be nice!"

"I didn't want to make you worried, Dean. I had it covered."

"Oh, didn't want to make me worried?! Newsflash, Sam, you suck at that! And you had it covered? What part of this looks fucking covered to you, Sam. Huh?! The 'Cas and Bobby are gone' part or the 'still can't find Abbadon' part?! Do you use that freakishly huge brain of yours, Sam? SHIT!"

And at the last 'shit' Dean throws the book onto the ground with a ginormous amount of force, enough to dent the ground, and storms out of the library and Sam thinks that he kills a demon on the way out, leaving Sam stunned, trying to breath through the panic.

Sam had promised himself that he was done lying and betraying his brother. That he was done letting Dean down. He had promised himself when he took the throne of Hell. Well, Sam figures that he never was any good at keeping promises. Sam looks down at his papers and angrily swipes his long (rather luscious) hair back out of his eyes and goes back to work. He's going to fix this, damnit. He'll fix it, if for no other reason than to make it up to his brother.

When Dean comes back, he has Charlie Bradbury in one hand and a shitload of surveillance equipment and tech stuff in the other. Enough to make Charlie almost have a techie orgasm. And while Dean tries to get Charlie to focus and set up surveillance, he manages to aim a sharp look at Sam. Sam tenses, waiting to get chewed out again. He won't fight his brother on this one. He figures this is one reaming that he deserves.

"And you!" Dean yells over Charlie's gushing, "I thought I told you to get some rest."

Sam looks up sharply, surprised.

"Seriously, Sam, you look like you went a few rounds with Rocky Balboa, and we both know whose winning that match."

Sam snorts and flips his brother the finger, but he ambles out the door and towards his room all the same. He decides that he's too happy with the way things turned out to be upset at his brother for ordering him around.

"Jerk."

"Bitch."


	4. Chapter 4

Dean doesn't know what to do now. He's warned his reapers and demanded that they go in groups and keep in contact. He should go back to Sam now, but he can't; not with the way they left things. Dean knows he shouldn't have gotten so mad, but damnit, Sam had promised the lies and the hiding stuff was over.

Dean figures he needs to blow off some steam. Needs to bitch a bit.

So he goes to see Charlie. Charlie's a buddy.

Dean knows he's a he and Charlie's a she, but Dean figures he's always had this odd sort of attraction to females he has no chance with; a human trait that manages to survive despite how un-human he's become. It's not always a romantic thing either (although, Dean's not complaining if it is), more of a curiosity thing. Jo was more like a sister, Pamela (and despite her flirting, Dean had always known where they stood) was a professional partner, Tess was (is, now) a professional confidant, Ellen and Josie were like mothers, and sweet, little Charlie is like a sister and a bro all rolled into one feisty, useful genius. And being the baby sis came with responsibilities, one of which is to hear out the grievances of the other siblings.

And Dean will admit, it's good to have a _girl friend_ instead of a _girlfriend_. It's like a buddy, but they won't judge you for being "unmanly".

So Dean goes to see Charlie.

Because, whether or not he wants to admit it, when Sam made that dewy-eyed, just-survived-the-end-of-the-world speech about how the lies were over, Dean believed him. And he's been paying Sam the same respect. Dean's told him everything because Sam asked him to, and now his brother's just going to lie to his face? Well, Dean takes exception to that. He may love (love is a strong and girly word, let's use 'not hate') his brother, but he's not a rag-doll for his brother's entertainment. And Sam's not getting off easy for this one. Someone could have really gotten hurt; someone under him on his watch.

Their dad may have been an asshole at times (and yes, Dean has come to terms with that), but he did teach Dean and his brother one thing at least. When leading people, take every life personally, or else you'll just end up using lives as cannon fodder. And Dean Winchester _does not_ use lives as cannon fodder. And he does take every life personally. He refuses to look at the reapers as just toy soldiers in a war. Most of them are even decent guys. And Sam could have gotten them hurt. _Dean_ could have gotten them hurt. Based on the intel that Sam gave him. And that's not acceptable.

Dean arrives at Charlie's and turns off the engine to his baby. He rubs the dash lovingly and takes a deep breath. He wants to rant and bitch, but there's absolutely no reason to charge in, all piss and vinegar, and be rude to Charlie.

The impala feels smooth and comfortable and familiar, and seeing all the new Dean's had these past few weeks, some old is welcome. He remembers feeling sick to his stomach when he realized that he might have to cheat on his girl with some douchey, pale car of Death's, but Death took it with him and assured Dean that he could "ride any steed of his choosing". The choice was a non-choice.

Dean sighs one more time and hauls his ass out of the car. He ambles up to the door of Charlie's apartment building and is just about to go in when the door bursts open and he finds himself with an armful of redheaded techie.

"Hey! I called you after the people fell out of the sky, but you didn't pick up you stupid lug. Where have you been? How have you been? Where's Sam? What happened? Gimme the deets. I want everything. I was going to wait for you upstairs, but you were taking sooooooo freaking long. What were you doing in that car? Taking a poop? Hey, you okay? Where _is_ Sam? Is he hurt? He still sick? He is isn't he? I knew…"

Dean just ushers her in while she goes on her tirade. He's got a lot of explaining to do.

_Sisters_.

rtguwfgrfbwghbrgtbiwurgtibwrgtbrgbjgvwer

"So…now you're a horseman and Sam the King of Hell and you guys saved the world, again. Cas and Bobby are gone due to evil-demon-harpy-escaped-from-hell and you need to find three decent people somewhere, and now you're here because Sam lied to you and you want to eat some ice-cream, raid my pastries, and cry over soap operas?"

Dean nods. When she puts it like that, their problems sound so much less troubling. God love Charlie Bradbury.

"Wow," she says, sitting down and sucking in a giant breath of air, "Can't look away for a second with you guys, huh?"

"We'd prefer if you didn't," Dean says, shit-eating grin in place.

"But Sam's better now," Charlie says, feeling the need to re-affirm that her close friend and savior is still alive-and-kicking and better than before.

"Yeah," Dean replies, "I mean, he isn't dying of a mysterious closing-hell illness anymore." And Dean can't stop the sag of relief because no matter how many times he repeats it (_SamisnotdyingSamisnotdying_) it never seems to be enough. And every time he says it out loud, it seems to solidify the truth. As girly as that sounds.

"So…he lied?" Charlie enquires, carefully. She's fully aware she's stepping onto no-man's land here. No backup. No tanks. And all the guns of enemy forces all trained on her.

Tread carefully.

Apparently, Charlie sucks ass at careful (not a big surprise, she breaks something new everyday. It's incredible what you can destroy given the right amount of clumsiness). Dean goes off with an explosion that rivals Hiroshima_and_Nagasaki, completely ignoring Charlie's helpless expression.

He rants about Sam. About his lying and how he should know better and how both of them have been through so much shit and how Dean should have caught onto it and how the reapers (wait, _reapers?_) (Yes, Charlie, reapers) could have been hurt and how Sam was a fucking moron and how Sam leaves his socks in odd places and eats too much bunny-food (RABBIT, Charlie, I'd never say bunny) (but-but _bunny_) and how Sam farts too much and how his feet stink and how he was red at birth and how he acts like such a virgin.

And by the end of it all, Charlie knows more about Sam than she ever wanted to. And the amazing thing is, Dean didn't seem done.

"_Jesus,_" she thinks while Dean rants (let him get it out), "_Just how much time do they spend with each other?_"

She figures that for two macho-alpha-male men who spend their lives in each other's ass, a little rant here and there might be therapeutic. Charlie decides, however, good as it may be for them, it's doing her ears (and last vestiges of sanity) no good at all, and if this is the way things are going to be from now on, she might start charging.

She'll let it go this time.

But when Dean moves onto Cas, she stops him. She already knows WAY more about Sam than she's comfortable with and is already going to have to scrub her memory palace (shut up) with a toothbrush; she isn't sure if she can stand listening to the dish on yet another one of Dean's macho-alpha-male brother/friend/ally/angel/whatever-the-hell-he-is. She's yet to meet the guys; she doesn't want to know where he keeps his socks just yet.

"Dean? Dude, I love you, but, over sharing much?"

Dean looks over at her, like he just now figured out she was there. And he doesn't say anything, just glares at her. And for that second, Charlie's glad she's only an honorary sibling and didn't actually grow up being raised by Dean Winchester. Carver Edlund's books do the man no justice. He's _scary_. Charlie can only imagine this is the kind of look Dean used to give Sam when they were younger. It's not a 'I will murder you and your pet dolphin and all the whales in the ocean' kind of look. It's more of a look that a pissy dad would fix their whiny kids with.

Wait, is she the whiny kid in this equation? That _sucks_.

Charlie's about to give in and tell Dean to please continue, but just as she's about to crack, Dean drops the look and sits down.

Charlie siddles as close as she dares and gives wants to ask if Dean's better, only she doesn't think she should speak and break the silence so she just kind of nudges him instead.

She's thrilled beyond words when Dean nudges back.

"We can hack into the security cameras if you want. I can hack into most of the ones in the USA. It sucks though, if I had my old equipment I could hack into the ones in, well, anywhere actually. Did you know there's at least one security camera on every block of every street in the entire world? AT LEAST. And I just installed this awesome facial recognition thingy. It can identify anyone…"

And Charlie knows she's ranting now, but that nudge was permission to speak, wasn't it? Well, Dean doesn't look annoyed, exasperated sure, but at least he's smiling now. Well, his face is relaxed and Charlie is sure she saw his lips twitch up. That counts, right?

Suddenly, Dean stands up, and Charlie knows that look on his face. It's the face she has when she's just figured out a super hard encryption.

"Charlie," he says, grabbing her hand, "I know where you can get _all_ the equipment you need…"

And the next thing she knows, she's in some sort of castle (totally awesome), Dean's yelling, and Sam's staring. _But_ _she's in a castle._ Worth it.

She looks up just in time to see Sam flip Dean the bird.

_Brothers_.

inrreniwernrgtnwgbwrgtbgher

Elsewhere, Robert Singer sits in a locked room in an abandoned warehouse, a knife clutched in one hand and holy water in the other one. Cas was there before, but after a botched up escape attempt, he was moved to another cell.

Suddenly, someone calls out. It doesn't sound like Cas, and it sounds to Bobby like it came from the cell next to his. So he calls out too.

"Oh, hey there, man," the voice calls back, "thought I smelled someone in the next room. They snatch you too?"

"Well, I ain't here o' my own free will, if that's what you're sayin'."

Bobby figures he has the right to be a bit grumpy.

"You and me both, brother. And the poor bloke in here with me. Sounds like ain't no one here of their own free choosing. Poor fella, just keeps going on about wanting _love_ or something. Off his rocker. Oh hey, I'm being rude; my name's Benny. What's yours?"


End file.
